Way Too
by Slick1
Summary: Myka teases Pete about his focus problem during Time Will Tell and they arrive at a solution.
1. Chapter 1

Spoilers: Elements, MacPherson, Time Will Tell

Disclaimer: _Warehouse 13_ is © Universal Network Television LLC

_"Do you know how long it's been? Way too."_

Pete and Myka slumped on opposite sides of the couch in the Inn's living room, exhausted but not ready to go to bed yet. Artie was alive, Mrs. Frederic was out of the hospital, Claudia was back and decidedly not guilty of betraying them all, and Leena, who _was_ guilty of betraying them all, had a really, really good excuse. The boogeyman, McPherson, was dead, and although a new boogeywoman was loose in the world, that was a problem for another day (probably tomorrow, unfortunately). In other words, all was as right as it ever got in their crazy little Warehouse world. Time to turn to matters of slightly less than Earth-shattering importance.

Myka scooted close enough to Pete to send the back of her hand into his ribs.

"OW," Pete said in exaggerated pain. "What was that for?"

"You were a little distracted during this mission, partner," Myka chided. "I know focus isn't your strong suit, but geez, the fate of the world was hanging in the balance, you'd think you could stop thinking with your … your man parts long enough to get the job done."

"My _man parts_? Besides, thanks to my _man parts_, I identified the bad guy, which I believe _was _the job at hand," Pete argued. "And plus, she was HO-OT!" he sing-songed.

Myka rolled her eyes. "You don't get credit for finding the bad girl when it was totally by accident and only because you were horny."

"Listen, we might as well harness my horniness for good, because I don't see any prospect of relief anytime soon," Pete lamented. "The pickins is mighty slim in this town."

"You mean the women of this town have too much taste to go out with you," Myka teased.

"Whatever," he said in a tone that clearly conveyed that that could not possibly be the case. "We're gone half the time chasing after magic eight balls that can really tell the future and lint from Edison's first dryer, doesn't leave much time for making a LOVE connection, you know what I mean?" Pete looked at her speculatively. "What about you, don't you ever feel the need to, uh, bond with someone?"

"Nah, not since I snuck Linda Lovelace's dildo out of the Warehouse a few months back."

"Myka!" Pete exclaimed. "I cannot believe sweet, innocent you just said the word 'dildo.' You didn't even whisper it!" He paused. "You're, uh, kidding about that, right?"

"Yes, I'm kidding. Actually, Artie and I have had a little thing going for a couple of months; he takes care of _all _my needs."

Pete stared at her, horrified. "Oh, man, I just threw up a little in my mouth. PLEASE tell me you're kidding about THAT."

Myka held a straight face as long as she could, which was about 10 seconds. Then she cracked up. "Oh, man, you should have seen the look on your face!" she giggled.

"Geez, Myka, you can't go putting pictures like that in my head! I mean, Artie's a great guy, but … eww."

"Well, now we've solved your horniness problem," Myka argued. "Anytime you feel the urge coming on, just picture Artie getting ready to get _all _the way down."

"Please stop," Pete begged. "I may not be having sex right now, but I do want to have sex again _someday_."

"Sorry," Myka apologized insincerely.

Pete continued, "You know, you pretend you aren't hurtin' for the hot monkey sex, but I know something about you that you don't know I know."

"And what is it you think you know?" Myka asked.

"I know that you like to be touched," he said triumphantly.

"What? C'mon, Pete everyone likes to be touched, it doesn't mean I can't go a few months without sex."

"A, try a year, and B, not everyone likes to be touched, I've got a scar from Missy Jones from 10th grade to prove it, and C, I mean you _really _like to be touched. You are a closet hug fanatic, and I bet you are a total cuddler, too."

"Am not!" she protested.

"Are too!"

"Am not!

"Are too! And it's got to be driving you just a little bit crazy that you haven't been _touched _in such a long time."

"How do you know I haven't been _touched_?" she parried.

"Hel-LO, we're in the middle of nowhere here."

"We travel! How do you know I didn't hook up with Jeffrey Weaver?"

"Did you?"

"No, but you don't know that?"

"I do now. C'mon Myka, seriously."

Nettled, Myka blurted out, "FINE. I haven't been with anyone since Sam, okay? You happy now?" Her eyes filled with tears.


	2. Chapter 2

Pete's face fell. "Oh, shit, Myka, I'm sorry." He moved next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. 'Idiot!' he thought. Just what his partner needed after a tough week – to be reminded of her dead lover.

To Pete's surprise – and probably Myka's – she leaned into him and buried her face against his neck, wrapping her arms tightly around his back. He rested his cheek on her head and gently stroked her hair and back, whispering, "sorry, I'm sorry" again and again.

After a few minutes she pulled away, sniffling a bit and wiping her damp eyes. She offered Pete a small, watery smile. "Okay, so maybe I'm a _little _bit of a cuddler," Myka admitted.

Pete accepted her attempt to lighten the atmosphere. "A little? I think at least two of my ribs are cracked."

Myka smacked him again and chuckled. "These ribs? Poor baby."

They settled back into their separate corners in a relatively peaceful silence. Pete was relieved that Myka seemed to be over her upset, and maybe, just maybe, he was reliving the feel of having her in his arms, now that he wasn't distracted by her tears.

Myka, however, was not relieved. She was a little agitated, but not about Sam. And maybe a bit … tingly? Pete shouldn't be able to make her tingle, should he? He was just Pete, good ole Pete, pain in the ass Pete. Of course, she'd be lying to herself if she claimed this was the first time Pete had made her tingle. She still vividly remembered their post-Alice-in-Wonderhell hug. Definitely some tingles that time, but she'd chalked it up to relief that she was not going to be trapped inside a mirror for all eternity.

Pete was right, she decided. She did like to be touched, and it had been a long time. She might be a by-the-manual agent, but that didn't mean she didn't like to get her freak on now and then. It's just that after Sam, the thought of being that close to someone again seemed unthinkable. Grief mixed with liberal helpings of guilt did not a love potion make.

But dammit, she was living in Middle of Nowhere, South Dakota, when she wasn't running around risking her life, and reading was all well and good, but sometimes curling up with a good book just didn't cut it. She just needed _something_, something that was enjoyable and normal and that the fate of the known universe didn't rest on.

She still couldn't imagine starting a relationship with someone, but maybe she could find another way to get her needs met. She'd heard somewhere that it was theoretically possible to have sex without being deeply in love with one's sexual partner. She eyed Pete speculatively. Might as well face it, he was the only game in town. Artie was like the quirky uncle she never had, and Leena and Claudia were cute but she didn't swing that way. She could make the trek into town, but Pete wasn't lying when he said the selection was a little lacking. It was Pete or nothing.

And really, would that be so bad? Sure, he was a big goofball 90% of the time, but he made her laugh. He was a good guy, a really good guy. And not totally repulsive-looking. Maybe even … cute. She'd gotten a few peeks at his chest since they'd been thrown together, and he actually had some muscle tone. And based on the rumors she'd heard about him (okay, not so much heard as pried out of her friend in the D.C. office), he'd done pretty well with the ladies, so he must sort of know what he was doing, right? Plus, why should Crazy Alice have all the fun?

"Pete," Myka said.

He turned to face her. "Yeah, Myka?"

She edged closer to him. "You know, with this new psycho-villainess running around, things are probably going to stay pretty hectic around here for awhile."

"No kidding," he said glumly.

"It's going to be a long time before either one of us has time to, uh, go on the prowl."

"Thanks for reminding me."

"And it _has _been a long time for both of us." She moved closer.

"Yeah, although longer for you than me, 'cause I got laid the night of the museum gig with this …"

"Pete!"

"Sorry. Anyway, for guys you have to calculate it like dog years because we need it a lot more of-"

"PETE! Focus!" she chided sharply. Geez, maybe celibacy wasn't such a bad option. She tried again. She tilted her head in what she hoped was a seductive manner and rested her hand on his forearm. "It just seems like a shame that we both have to suffer. And it could be dangerous; I mean you almost got yourself killed this time by H.G. Hells, who knows what could happen next."

Pete was starting to get an inkling of where she was going with this. Really? Buttoned-up little nice girl Myka was proposing some partners-with-benefits action? Although, she did have an affair with a married man, so she couldn't be _that _straight-laced, but Pete was sure Myka had been convinced that she and Sam were totally in love and Sam's wife didn't understand him and blah blah. He didn't really peg her as a casual sex girl, but hey, that was her problem, not his, right?

He scooted closer. "Distraction can be very dangerous in this job, you're right. It's probably not safe for either us to have me running around half-cocked."

"Or not cocked at all," she added.

"Nice one," he grinned.

"So really, it's almost our duty to make sure this isn't an issue," she reasoned.

"Sort of like throwing ourselves in front of a bullet?" Pete asked.

"Something like that."

Pete frowned. "I'm not sure how I feel about that. I've never had a woman consider having sex with me as 'taking one for the team.' Literally."

Myka had exhausted her limited supply of seductive wiles. "Look, Pete," she huffed, "do you want to do this or not?"

Pete grinned at her. This was more like the Myka he knew and … well, really liked. After the Vegas trip, seductive Myka creeped him out.

He cupped her face in his hands and pulled her closer. "Oh, hell yeah I want to do this," he said, putting his lips to hers.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Bad word alert.**

The kiss got really hot really fast. They devoured each other, until suddenly, Pete pulled back. Staring deeply into Myka's eyes, he asked, "You're really Myka, right?"

Myka stared back, baffled. "Of course, I'm really Myka. Who else would I be?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe Alice?" Pete said sarcastically.

"Pete, I'm not Alice, geez," Myka protested. "She's in the mirror, in the dark vault. We double-checked the DV inventory before we came back to the inn, remember?"

"Lemme see your hands," he demanded, grabbing them.

"Pete, what the hell?"

"Just checking for thimbles."

"Pete, for crying out loud, it's me, okay? Can we just get back down to business?"

Pete cocked his head, studying her a moment longer. Then he shrugged. "Huh, guess I was wrong."

"Wrong about what?" Myka asked curiously.

"Nothing, never mind," Pete said, pulling her back into a kiss.

Myka quickly got back into the spirit of things, moaning into his mouth. Man, he knew exactly what to do with his lips and tongue to send her into orbit. How long had it been since she was with a man who really knew how to kiss, and seemed to enjoy it? Nothing worse than kissing a guy you liked for the first time and finding out he couldn't kiss for shit.

She pushed as close to him as she could given their awkward position on the couch, but it wasn't close enough. Frustrated, Pete slid one arm around her back and the other beneath her legs and pulled her across his lap. They both groaned as her backside nestled into his groin and he thrust up into her. She gyrated against him and gasped, bowing back and arching her head back at the sensation. Pete took the opportunity to move his lips down her neck and then up, darting his tongue lightly into her ear before nibbling on her lobe, all the while rolling his hips against her ass. How did he know _exactly _… she lost her train of thought as he pulled her head up and brought his lips back to hers.

Another thought was unfortunately a bit more persistent. Pulling back a centimeter, Myka said, "Pete?"

"Yeah, Myka?" Pete asked before trailing his mouth down to her collarbone and giving her a gentle nip.

"Oh, that feels so good," Myka groaned. "But, Pete?"

"Yeah, Myka?"

"Do you think we should take this somewhere more private?"

Pete considered that as he tugged down the front of her (thankfully low-cut) shirt and moved his lips lower. "I guess so. Although, Leena's probably already noticed that something's up with our auras, and Artie's probably gotten some sort of alert from his computer."

"Mmmm …" Myka said. Pete wasn't sure if she was agreeing with him or expressing approval of the fact that he'd managed to get one cup of her bra out of his way.

"Still," she said faintly a moment later. "I think I'd rather … oh! … maybe, uh, go to my room."

"Sure, Myka, whatever you want," Pete mumbled, not making any move to get up or remove his mouth from her person. For a minute, he thought she'd given up on the idea, until suddenly she heaved upwards, trying to get to her feet and catching him on the side his head with her elbow in the process.

"Oh, damn, sorry, Pete," she said.

"That's okay," he said, pushing her to her feet and stumbling up after her. "It's going to take a lot more than that to kill the mood."

But no sooner had he said it then a tiny, tiny wave of … something … lapped over him. Definitely not sanity, because there was nothing sane about him hesitating to take her up on her offer. But still …

"Myka?" he said.

"Yeah, Pete?" she answered impatiently as she grabbed his hand and started to tug him toward the stairs. She wanted to get him in her bed before her sensible, logical, scaredy-cat mind convinced her that this was a bad idea. Which it _wasn't_, she thought fiercely.

"I really, really hate to be the girl here, but –" he began hesitantly.

"Then don't be," Myka said firmly as she dragged him up the stairs. "'Cuz for what I have in mind, I really, really need you to be the guy."

Pete allowed her to pull him into her room and then dug in his heels. "It's just … you know, it's looking like we are going to here at the Warehouse for a loooong time."

"Yeah, so?"

"And if you decide later you don't want to do this anymore, it could get kinda weird …"

"Or you could decide _you _don't want to do it anymore," she said reasonably.

"Yeah, I don't really see that happening," Pete replied. Was she kidding? He was going to decide he didn't want her anymore? With that smokin' body? And her wavy hair, and those _eyes_, he really liked her eyes, and she had that odd little thing going on with her upper lip that gave her a sort of wabi-sabi, and her overall Myka-ness, really, what was not to like? Although … she _could _be kinda bossy sometimes. Like the old saying, no matter how hot you think she is, some guy somewhere is sick of her shit.

"Myka, you're not going to try to boss me around in bed, are you?" he asked nervously.

"What? No, of course not," Myka said defensively.

"'Cuz I mean, I take requests and stuff, but if you're gonna be all, 'do this, do that,' it might kind kill the mood." Or in certain circumstances, it could be kinda hot, he mused.

"I'm not bossy," she said nervously. What had he heard?

"Not bossy, my ass, are we forgetting Paris?" he exclaimed.

"I mean, I'm not bossy in bed, and I wouldn't have to be bossy in real life if you would just do what I tell you!" Oops, not really helping your case there, Myka, she thought.

"Okay, there are so many things wrong with that statement that I don't know where to start, but let's focus on the 'in bed' part. Are you honestly telling me you've never gotten all drill sergeant on one of your boyfriends?" He carefully didn't mention the "S-word" because he didn't want to travel that road twice in one night.

"No, I've never gotten 'all drill sergeant.' I mean, maybe I might _occasionally_ have provided a few useful directions …"

"Useful directions, like, 'do this, do that'?"

"… sometimes S- er, a guy might not be exactly be focusing on the right area …"

"So he couldn't find your little man in the boat, or …"

"I mean, because Sam was a great lover … a good lover, but once in awhile he was kind of in a hurry, and …"

Ah, hah! Pete thought. Sam sucked in the sack. At least that was one area where he could compete with her perfect dead lover. Not that he was _trying_ to compete with him, but …

"… more to the right, but I wouldn't describe myself as bossy in bed," Myka finished up.

Pete looked her up and down with a predatory gleam in his eye. He'd forgotten all about reasons why they maybe shouldn't do this. Arguing with Myka should have turned down his motor, but instead it was revving him up. Did that mean the last year of bickering had just been foreplay?

"I tell you what," he said, "I'll spend the next five or six hours learning your body, top to bottom, and if after that I'm still not finding your 'special areas,' feel free to point me in the right direction."

Myka felt like she'd just gone up in flames. "I'll take that deal," she breathed, dragging him with her as she fell back onto her bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Definitely bad language and adult activities.**

Pete dove in as he stumbled down on top of her. Fisting his hands in her hair, he kissed her aggressively, opening his mouth over hers, sucking her lips and then sliding his tongue against hers. Myka gasped and braced her feet on the bed on either side of his thighs, pushing her center against his erection. Pete groaned his approval. Apparently, Myka was okay with aggressive. He tugged on her hair, pulling her head back and exposing her neck to his lips and tongue. He moved downward until he once again ran into her shirt.

"Hey, Myka," he asked.

"Yeah, Pete?"

"Can we do the whole sexy-striptease-kissing-each-inch-of-your-skin-as-I-slowly-reveal-it-thing next time? Because right now I just want to get all your clothes off as fast as possible."

"I am so okay with that, as long as you strip, too," she said.

"Deal." He levered himself reluctantly away from her and pulled his shirt over his head. As he reached for his pants, he eyes flew to her bra-covered breasts emerging from beneath her shirt. She was wearing a sensible plain white bra, but it might have been Victoria's Secret's finest judging by the reaction it got from Pete. Oh, man, he was about to see the promised land! He hastily pushed his jeans to the floor and kicked them off. Luckily he'd taken his shoes and socks off when they'd returned to the inn, because he was pretty sure he was incapable of simultaneously: 1. taking them off, 2. remaining upright, and 3. keeping himself from having a premature orgasm watching Myka take off her clothes. Two and three were hard enough.

Myka paused in the act of pushing her pants over her hips and pointed sternly at Pete. "If you laugh at my underwear, I swear to God, Pete, you will _never _see me naked, got it?"

"I won't laugh," he promised. Laughing was about the furthest thing from Pete's mind – until he saw the huge cotton underwear she was wearing. He manfully bit back a chortle, but his face must have given him away.

"Look," Myka explained sheepishly, "Things have been pretty hectic lately and laundry hasn't exactly been at the top of my to-do list, so I'm down to my third-string undies, okay?"

"Totally understand that, no judgment here, but they _are _pretty ugly so you should definitely take them off as soon as possible. The bra, too, where'd you get that, Goodwill?"

"Pete!" she laughed, throwing her pants at him. He pulled them away from his face just in time to see the bra come off. She decided to throw that at him, too.

So there they were, facing each other, she in her granny panties and he in his boxer briefs (inside-out because things had been really hectic lately and laundry hadn't exactly been at the top of his to-do list …). Myka felt nervous for the first time that night, but judging by the bulge tenting his underwear, there was something in there she really wanted to see, so … wait, were they _inside-out? _Oh, hell, it was Pete, she was lucky they weren't Spiderman underoos.

Pete, on the other hand, was too busy staring at her _bodacious rack_ to feel any self-consciousness whatsoever. "Man, Myka, you are so beautiful," he breathed reverently.

Myka blushed. "Okay, on three, ready?"

"1 … 2 … 3," they counted together. On three, they each pushed down their underwear. Myka's eyes bugged out. He was hung! She generally didn't care overly much about that sort of thing, but holy crap – he was huge! Nice and long and thick and obviously very happy to see her. "Geez, Pete, your cockiness is suddenly starting to make sense," she said admiringly.

Normally, Pete would have used that as an excuse for a dirty comment and days of crowing, but playtime was over – now he had only one focus. "Myka," he growled, moving purposefully toward her and pulling her back into his arms. He fused his mouth to hers and smoothed his palms down her back to her ass, kneading her cheeks and pulling her tight against his raging hard-on. She shivered and rubbed her center against his groin, gasping as her clit brushed against him.

"Ah, Myka," he groaned, kissing and biting at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. He pushed her gently back to the bed and followed her down, covering her body with his.

"Pete, touch me," she gasped needily.

"Oh, yeah, baby, everywhere. All night long," he promised. Somewhat reluctantly, he pushed up onto his haunches, straddling her hips, instantly missing the full-body contact but enjoying the view. Swooping down for a quick kiss, he sat back on his heels. As much as he wanted to plunge into her and feel her gloved around him, he remembered her comment about Sam rushing through sex. That was definitely not the impression he was going for here. And honestly, having Myka spread out naked before him like the world's most awesome banquet was an incredible gift. He wasn't going to waste the opportunity. And he knew her, knew she needed this, craved it, craved another human's touch.

"Close your eyes," he whispered. She shut them, and he began his attack. He started with her hair, that beautiful, curly, springy hair that he secretly loved. He hated when she pulled it back, tried to tame it. He loved it when it bounced free, caressing her shoulders. He ran his fingers through it, pushing it back and then moving his fingers to her scalp, massaging it with the perfect pressure.

She shuddered, arching her neck. "Feels so good …" she mumbled.

Rewarding her with another kiss, he moved his hands down to frame her face, running his thumbs across her cheeks, her lips. He moved his fingers forward and stroked gently down her forehead, her nose, her chin, to her ears and down to her neck. Her breasts beckoned to him, but he detoured. He squeezed her upper arms gently and then continued, running his fingers lightly down until he reached her hands. He intertwined their fingers and then moved to cup the backs of her hands, pulling them up one by one and placing a gentle kiss on each palm. Then he stroked back up and finally cupped her breasts.

Myka moaned and arched up as he shaped and squeezed them, pushing them together and leaning down to kiss each tip. "Peeeete," she sighed as he placed the palm of his hands against her turgid nipples, pressing down and the moving his hands up and out, pushing her breasts up and out as well. He ghosted his fingers along the sides of her breasts back to her tips and then repeated the process several more times.

"Pete, what are you doing to me?" Myka asked wonderingly.

Pete panicked. "You don't like it? It's okay, I can do old school," he promised, cupping her breasts once again and squeezing them more firmly than before.

"No, feels sooooo good, never had a guy do that before," she said.

Take that, Sam, Pete thought smugly before rubbing his thumbs across her nipples. Then he pinched them, slowly increasing the pressure and watching her carefully. The tighter he squeezed, the more her face scrunched up, which he was learning was a good thing, and the farther she arched her back, pushing into his pressure. She liked it hard, he realized. He began pinching her nipples sharply and then releasing them, slowly at first and then faster and faster. Myka bowed up even farther, flinging her arms behind her and grasping the top of the mattress. He moved down on top of her, replacing one hand with his mouth, biting gently around her nipples and then sucking on her tip.

Myka squealed. "Oh, yes, Pete, please, harder," she begged. She drew her feet up, knees on either side of his hips. She used her heels against his butt to push him more fully on top of her and began circling her center rhythmically against him. She gasped, "Oh, oh, oh …" each time her clit hit his cock as she got more and more excited.

Pete's plans for a slow seduction flew out the window as he began thrusting against her circles. He knew she must be so tight after a year of abstinence – it was going to a bit of effort to work his way inside her for the first time. He didn't want to break her flow, so he did the next best thing. Propping himself up on one arm, he reached down and pushed himself down between her legs. Then he moved back on top of her, sucking her nipple and stroking along her crotch, making sure to hit her clit on each pass.

The volume and pitch of Myka's squeals increased dramatically. She brought her legs down flat beneath his and pulled them tightly together to create a tight passage for him. Reaching down, she grabbed his butt cheeks, kneading them and pulling him down on each stroke. Pete groaned, trying to maintain control. Her warm, wet crotch felt so good against him, so close to where he really wanted to be. He gritted his teeth and hung on, shifting to press harder against her bundle of nerves, sucking her breast as Myka writhed beneath him and finally biting down on the nipple. Myka screamed and shattered, spasming against him as she wrapped her arms and legs around him.

**AN2: Feel free to let me know if I've gone wildly off course. It's been awhile. Uh, since I wrote smut.**


	5. Chapter 5

Pete wrapped her up in his arms, kissing her neck before pulling away abruptly.

"Pete, what's wrong?" Myka asked, shocked.

"Nothing's wrong, just need to … something I need to, AHHH …" Pete gasped as he grabbed his penis and carefully pressed against the underside with three fingers. He screwed up his face for a few moments and then relaxed. "There, that should do it; now where were we?" he asked, moving to take her in his arms again.

"Wait, what was that?" Myka asked, holding him off.

"Well, you know, I didn't want the, uh, party to end too soon, if you know what I mean," Pete explained.

"Oh. Oh! And that does the trick?" she asked.

"As you can see …" Pete gestured downwards, where his hard-on remained, ready for action.

Myka looked down and nodded, impressed. "And just how did you come to learn that little trick, may I ask?"

"Oh, well, uh … Do I really have to answer that question?"

"Yup, you've got me curious now."

"Well, I just, you know, had a little issue with that once upon a time …"

Peachy, Myka thought, another Speedy Gonzalez to add to my list of lovers.

"So a friend taught me that trick, 'cuz he was having the same problem," Pete finished.

"A friend, huh," Myka said, raising her eyebrows.

"Yeah, Jimmy Kimball, he was my best friend in high school."

"In _high school_ …"

"Yeah, well, you know, when you're a 16-year-old boy you don't exactly know the meaning of 'delayed gratification,' but I didn't want to get a bad rep with the ladies, so …"

Oh, thank goodness, Myka thought.

"Actually, I'm surprised I remember how to do it," Pete continued. "I haven't needed to for years, but damn, Myka, that was so hot, and I just …"

"Pete?"

"Yeah, Myka?"

"Shut up and come here."

"Yes ma'am." He moved back over her, joining his lips to hers, caressing her body with his. Myka arched up into him, stroking her hands down his back, his buttocks.

Pete groaned. "Myka? Do I need to use anything? I think I might have a maximum of 60 seconds of useful brain power if you need me to run to my room and grab a condom."

"It's okay, I'm still on the pill. And I got a clean bill of health at the checkup they made us have right after we got to the Warehouse. You?"

"Yeah, clean as a whistle. Hey, Myka?"

"Yeah, Pete?"

"I know I owe you half of a full body rub, but I can't wait any longer, Sweetheart."

Myka glowed at the endearment. She lifted herself against him and breathed, "I don't want you to wait, Pete."

Pete gave her one last, lingering kiss and then sat back on his haunches and moved his hands to her thighs. He stroked up and down them and then pushed them gently apart, taking a moment to peek at her hidden treasure. "Myka, so beautiful," he said, leaning down to place a kiss on her thigh and then her center. He honestly didn't think he'd ever been so hard in his life. He slid his hands under her ass and lifted her to him. Placing himself at her entrance, he began slowly pushing himself into her.

"So tight, Myka," he groaned. He felt like he was never going to fit. He retreated and then pushed again against her constricting entrance. She moaned and tried to push herself onto him, but he held her back. "Easy, Sweetheart, I don't want to hurt you." He stroked her clit as he tried again, and this time he was able to push through into her tight passage. They both moaned as he moved all the way into her.

Myka felt so full – she couldn't remember it ever feeling this way before. He was hitting every sensitive place inside of her, just by virtue of his size. Usually once she had gotten hers she was done for the night, just along for the ride, but she could already feel herself starting to build again. She gasped as he bottomed out. Oh, yeah, this was gonna be soooo good.

"You okay, Myke?" Pete asked as he slowly pulled out and pushed in again, stroking her clit with his thumb.

"Yeah, Pete, so good, please …" she begged him.

"Hold on," he told her. He stroked into her a few more times, gritting his teeth against the unbelievable sensation of her surrounding him, gloving him so tightly. Then he moved his arms under her legs. He caught her knees and pushed them up and out, moving back over her and spreading her wide for his penetration. He pulled out and surged back into her, harder than before, setting up a fast, steady rhythm. He buried his face against the crook of her neck, kissing and sucking it.

Myka felt pinned, dominated. Normally that would make her uncomfortable, but somehow with Pete it was okay. Maybe because she knew he would never hurt her. Or maybe because it felt so fan-fucking-tastic. With every stroke he hit her G-spot and nudged her cervix and his groin brushed her clit. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hung on, tilting her hips up to meet him on every pass. Twisting her head, she kissed and nibbled his ear, whimpering her pleasure.

Pete sped up, knowing he wasn't going to last much longer but wanting to bring Myka with him. By the desperate sounds she was making in his ear, he didn't have too long to wait. He moved his mouth to her breast, sucking on her nipple. Then he brought one hand down, pressing her just behind where his cock was pounding into her. A few strokes later, she shrieked and convulsed. The clenching of her sheath around him pushed him over the edge, and he shouted as he spilled himself inside her.


	6. Chapter 6

After a long moment, Pete somehow managed to push himself onto his back beside Myka with a groan. He turned his head to look at her as he groped for her hand.

"You okay, there, Myke?"

She lolled her head toward him, staring blankly. "Huh?"

With a supreme effort, he leaned over far enough to kiss her before flopping back. "Ha! I got moves, right?" he boasted. He would have thrown in a little dance, but he was just too wrung out to make the effort.

Myka shook her head a little to clear it. "Pete?"

"Yeah, Myka?"

"I'm too tired to smack you in the ribs. Could you do it for me?"

He chuckled and tugged her over to rest against him, her head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

"Will you let me off the hook if I tell you you've got some pretty awesome moves yourself?"

"Mmmm," she murmured contentedly. "Depends on how good the other half of my full-body rub is."

"Fair enough, but I gotta tell you, it might take an hour or so before you find out. You wore me out, woman!"

"I understand. You're getting older. Plus, maybe you're a little out of practice. It's to be expected," she said mock-sympathetically.

"Ex-_cuse _me?" Pete protested, aghast. "Did it _seem_ like I was outta practice? 'Cause from where I was at, you sure _looked_ like you were enjoying yourself. Or should I say _sounded _like it?"

Myka wanted to keep yanking his chain, but she was too content to keep it up. "Actually, I've got to hand it to you, Pete, you've definitely still got it." And if she played her cards right, she was going to get it again before the night was over. She sighed happily.

They lay there quietly, basking in the afterglow, Pete stroking her hair, Myka drawing little circles on his chest. She kept expecting the embarrassment or panic or regret to set in, but so far they hadn't made an appearance. Pete was still Pete. She was still Myka. They were still Pete and Myka. She just couldn't find anything to get upset about at the moment. Or maybe she was still blissed out on sex endorphins. Whatever.

After a few minutes, however, something else came over her – a desperate need to pee. Reluctantly, she got up and grabbed her bathrobe.

"Whereya goin'?" Pete asked.

"Ladies room, be right back," she said. She cracked the door open, peering anxiously down the hall.

"Myka?"

"Yeah, Pete?"

"Why are you sneaking around?"

"I don't want anyone to see me," she explained, exasperated.

"See you what, leaving your own room to go to the bathroom?"

Myka paused. "Good point," she admitted. She moved down the hall to the bathroom.

When she got back a few minutes later, Pete was up with his pants back on. "My turn," he announced. He started toward the door and then hesitated. "I can, uh, come back here when I'm done, right?" he asked, uncharacteristically nervous. Maybe she just wanted him to go back to his room.

Myka smiled at him. She was not used to Pete being unsure of himself. Usually he was full steam ahead, right or wrong.

"You'd better come back. You still owe me my backrub, Mister," she said sternly.

Pete grinned, relieved. "Never let it be said I don't pay my debts." He moved confidently toward the door.

"_Pete_!" Myka hissed loudly.

"Yeah, Myka?"

"_Sneak!_"

"Oh, right." He make a big show of opening the door an inch and looking both ways before heading to the bathroom. He didn't have the heart to tell her that given the volume of their recent activities, he was pretty sure everyone in the Inn knew what they'd been up to.

Once he'd finished his business, he peered at himself in the mirror while he washed his hands. He had the dopiest look on his face. He'd slept with Myka. _Myka!_ He'd started having dirty little fantasies about her about two minutes after he met her, but he didn't think he'd ever get the chance to act them out … especially after he got to know her. They'd become friends over the months. Not that they'd had much of a choice, being pretty much joined at the hip most days by their Warehouse duties, but still. He had gotten to know her sweet, quirky, vulnerable side, and after that, it seemed kind of wrong to think about screwing her like she was one of the bimbos he sometimes hooked up with. Myka was worth more than that.

"And what do you think you just did, asshole?" he asked the mirror. Great! Now he was talking to himself.

This wasn't like that, he argued to himself. They were helping each other relieve their frustration. Friends helping each other out. True, he'd never helped any of his friends out that way in the past, but he'd helped them move plenty of times. It was practically the same thing.

One thing though. Beneath that straight-laced exterior, Myka was one hot tamale.

"And now I want tamales," Pete moaned. Maybe he'd hit that Mexican place in Univille tomorrow.

He opened the bathroom door and headed into the hall. Luckily, no one was lurking about. He didn't need a vibe to predict that there was an incredibly awkward conversation with Artie in his near future, but he didn't want to have it tonight, while he was enjoying the newness of being with Myka. Oh man, I really _am _the girl tonight, he thought.

He returned to Myka's room, detouring on the way to pull on a clean pair of underwear from his emergency supply. The room was dim, lit only by a small bedside lamp, and Myka waited for him in her bed. As he pulled back the covers to crawl in beside her, he couldn't help but notice that she was wearing a silky little camisole-thingy with matching underwear. Looks like he wasn't the only one with a secret underwear stash. He pulled the covers over them as Myka reached over to turn out the lamp. Then he pulled her back against his chest and wrapped an arm around her, as if he did it every night. He expected a protest, or maybe some awkwardness, but she just rested her arms on top of his, murmured goodnight, and drifted off to sleep. As he lay there, Myka in his arms, the flowery scent of her hair in his nose, he fell asleep, too.


End file.
